


Princess Of Fire

by TheMightyGhost



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asgard, Betrayal, Black Order - Freeform, Brother-Sister Relationships, Death Threats, Deception, Family Conflict, Gen, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Marvel Norse Lore, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Compliant, Protective Heimdall, Ragnarok, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Siblings, Sister-Sister Relationship, Swearing, Threats of Violence, Valhalla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 08:43:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20618216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyGhost/pseuds/TheMightyGhost
Summary: Hela rules Asgard with an iron fist.The Princes are gone.Heimdall is missing.And Laussa has to deal with her own impending death.





	1. Sticks And Stones May Break My Bones

**Author's Note:**

> A sort-of re-write of 'Long Live The Queen', but not really? It's a remake I guess. Hope you enjoy.

A darkness had fallen over the Golden Realm. Hela had returned to reclaim what was rightfully hers, and although Laussa disliked having an older sister abruptly turn up out of the blue, she could appreciate why the Goddess of Death was so pissed off. Who wouldn’t be if their father imprisoned them in literal Hel for hundreds and hundreds of years? She had only been the weapon he had wanted her to be, yet he was allowed redemption while she was given life imprisonment. 

Laussa had to admit, despite being ruthless and downright sadistic at times, Hela was opening her eyes to new possibilities. The bloody history of Asgard was being exposed for the first time in centuries, allowing Laussa to finally understand the man her father had been. A warmongering tyrant, a thief, a slave-driver, a ruthless unrelenting mass-murderer. She had to laugh at how he had admonished her brother for killing less than a hundred people on Midgard, when he himself had slaughtered thousands. 

The people were naturally distressed, but most had gone into hiding with Heimdall up in the mountains. Laussa knew this, Hela didn’t. She was determined to keep that particular secret from her sister for as long as possible. If anything, it would serve as a useful bargaining tool if (and when) Hela decided that she was bored of her little sister. Laussa wasn’t stupid; but she was good at playing ignorant. So she played the fool well, simpering and nodding along with her sister’s fanciful words, exchanging knowing looks with her sister’s new executioner Skurge, all the while learning all she could from the Goddess of Death.

It had been weeks since she had lost her brothers in the Bifrost. Weeks of Hela’s iron fist ruling over the Realm Eternal. Weeks of her preparing her Draugr army for an invasion on the rest of the Nine Realms. The only spanner in the works was the lack of Hofund, the sword that was the key to activating and operating the Bifrost. Laussa, of course, knew where the sword was - but again, that was a secret she intended to keep until she was in dire straits.

Another week came and went, with Hela’s undead army scouting the surrounding land outside the city, desperately seeking the Bifrost sword. Laussa had been assigned to babysit the overlarge undead reanimated black wolf Fenrir, who had glowing green eyes and an attitude that stank worse than its shit. Laussa hated the damned beast. The feeling was most definitely mutual, if the presents Fenrir kept leaving for her was anything to go by. How in all the Nine could an undead dog defecate? What was it eating that allowed it to produce such toxic waste?

Laussa had taken to the training grounds to hone her skills, swinging her twin blades around carelessly. She was bored, to be honest. Since Hela’s reign had started, there had been no-one at the market, and she was missing pulling pranks on the palace staff. She wanted to go out exploring without the fear of being stabbed by some bony prick. She wanted her brother-in-disguise back, even if she had to endure his melodramatic plays about his own ‘death’. She wanted to go horse-riding and she wanted to feel the sun on her skin and she wanted to not be terrified of going to sleep lest she wake up crushed under the weight of Hela’s pet mongrel. 

Most of all, she missed her family. 

Still, she knew eventually her brothers would return. They were far too stubborn and stupid to stay away, even if Hela claimed them to be dead. She doubted falling out of the Bifrost could kill them - after all, Loki had fallen from the Bifrost once upon a time, and Thor had been through some tough shit in the olden days. They were too tough to let a simple Bifrost incident get the better of them. She just hoped they got back soon, because Hela was drawing closer and closer to unearthing where Heimdall and the refugees were hiding, and Laussa knew it would only be inevitable that it would all end in bloodshed. 

“Where did you get those swords?” Skurge asked during a moment of downtime away from Sister Dearest. He was munching on a stale loaf of bread, the Uru executioner’s axe leaning against the wall next to him.

Laussa had been cleaning her blades when he had asked the question. She gave a slight smile. “My brothers gifted them to me. They are the Twin Blades of Muspelheim, imbued with fire from the heart of the realm of fire.” She ran her finger along the onyx-and-crimson metal. “I can only wield them because of my ailment.”

“Ailment? Oh, you’re the Princess with Surtur’s gunk in you, right?”

“Gunk…? Yes, I suppose it could be described as gunk…” she grimaced at the very notion. “Anyway, regardless of all that… where is Her Majesty?”

“Out with that bloody wolf.” Skurge, like Laussa, disliked the overlarge wolf. “Can I ask you a question, Princess?”

“You can.”

“Did you know about her before she came back?”

Laussa shook her head. “Father never told us about her. I think Loki knew, he seemed to know most of Asgard’s secrets. Did you know he was masquerading as the Allfather?”

“I had an inkling. We all did, to be perfectly honest. He wasn’t as good an actor as he thought himself to be. Too polite.” 

Laussa smirked at that. “Agreed. Plus, Father never sat on the throne with his legs spread wider than a whore’s!”

They both laughed, and in their amused state they didn’t notice the dark presence shifting behind them. 

“What is so amusing?” came the cold voice of Queen Hela. Their laughter stopped instantly.

“We were comparing weapons,” Laussa explained, unwilling to mention anything pertaining to her family. “Skurge attempted to wield my swords but nearly got his hand burned off.”

“Silly me!” Skurge laughed weakly, playing along as best he could. Although he was loyal to Hela, he was also scared shitless by the imposing Goddess - and rightly so. Laussa was grateful she had somebody she could (sort of) trust. It was better than dealing with this calamity by herself. 

“Hm. Well, as exciting as I’m sure this all is…” Hela turned her steely cold gaze upon Laussa, “I wish to speak with you alone, sister. Sturge, leave us.”

“Yes, my Queen.”

As Skurge left, Laussa saw him look over his shoulder at her, offering her a sympathetic smile. Laussa didn’t return it, feeling dread running through her. She adopted a neutral expression, standing tall and proud, hoping to convey how confident and unworried she was, even though she was absolutely terrified of what her sister was capable of.

“So, Sister, what is it you require of-”

Laussa found herself being flung across the room, spikes embedded into the outer edges of her clothes, pinning her to the far wall. She hissed at the impact against her spine, her head knocking back into the stone, leaving her dazed momentarily. 

“Is this necessary?” she wheezed, eyeing Hela carefully. Her sister approached her like a predator stalking its prey, a dark expression on her pale face. She had her spiked crown on, her emerald green eyes shining brighter than usual. Laussa knew she was about to be in a world of pain. 

“You are lying to me. I don’t appreciate liars, Sister.”

“Neither do I. I guess that’s one familial trait we share-  _ Ahh! _ ” One of Hela’s conjured up spikes sunk into the soft flesh of Laussa’s stomach, ensuring she remained trapped to the wall. Blood gushed out of the grievous wound, and around the wound the skin started turning harder and darker, crisping over as flames licked up the black spike, slowly melting it away. 

Hela stood up straight, hand still extended, a self-satisfied smirk on her green-painted lips. “Interesting. So the rumours are true: the daughter of Odin and Frigga is tainted by Lord Surtur.”

The spikes disappeared. Laussa fell to the ground in a heap, clutching at her stomach, the flames cauterising the wound. Her skin slowly started returning to its usual pigment, but the burning embers never left her eyes as she glowered at her older sibling in disdain. 

“I don’t appreciate being used as target practice.”

“And I don’t appreciate being deceived by my own flesh and blood. But here we are.” Hela’s crown vanished, her long black hair falling over her exposed shoulders. She eyed Laussa thoughtfully. “I have a special task for you, Sister of Mine.”

“Does it involve being used as a chew toy by your fucking dog?” Laussa spat out.

Hela laughed. 

“Don’t tempt me.” She crouched down, offering Laussa a hand. After hesitating briefly, Laussa accepted her sister’s hand, wincing when she was pulled onto her feet. “I have a special assignment for you. I want you to find Heimdall. I want you to bring me his sword. And his head. And, if you do that for me, I won’t have Fenrir use you as a chew toy.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Probably not, anyway.”

Laussa exhaled heavily. 

“If I refuse?”

Hela smirked, eyes alight with sadistic glee. “Well, that would be telling, wouldn’t it? Be a good sister, follow my orders, and you shall be rewarded.”

Laussa resigned herself to her fate. She was screwed, royally screwed. She just hoped her idiot brothers would come back sooner rather than later.

If they didn’t, they’d all end up as dog shit. 


	2. With A Taste Of A Poison Paradise

The trek up the mountain path was taking far longer than she had anticipated. It didn’t help that she was being followed by a select group of undead Einherjar, who had fought for Asgard in the bloodthirsty glory-days of young Odin’s reign. It was times like this she wished her father was still alive, if only so she could kick him in his crown jewels. Bastard.

Though, she shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. Especially if she was going to be dead soon. Her father was going to murder her once she got to Valhalla.

_ If  _ she got to Valhalla. At this rate, she was going to end up being one of Hela’s undead minions. 

Yay.

Her twins were sheathed across her back - usually she’d keep them in a special ‘pocket space’ her mother had taught her to utilise, because usually when she kept her weapons on her person, she ended up falling on them and cutting herself to pieces. She liked drawing the burning blades out of thin air and dazzling her enemies, but she felt safer knowing they were visible to the Draugr, who seemed, if possible, fearful of their molten might. 

She stopped for a quick breather, turning to look down at the golden city below. She made to step into the bushes, only for an undead bastard to grab her roughly. “Excuse me, I know you are incapable of urinating, but a Princess never relieves themselves in front of scum like you.” She removed his bony hand from her and retreated into the bushes, on edge the entire time she squatted and urinated. 

They continued onwards, heading towards where Laussa knew Heimdall would be hiding the refugees. Her stomach wound ached, but she ignored it for now. She just hoped Heimdall was using his All-Seeing vision to watch their approach. 

A rock fell down the side of the cliff, falling past her and over the ravine. Laussa drew her blades slowly, eyeing her surroundings warily. Behind her, the Draugr tensed, drawing their own weapons. 

Silence.

And then the sky darkened as arrows fell from the heavens. Laussa raised her swords, forming a shield of fire to protect herself, pushing herself over the edge of the ravine as the Draugr were pummeled by the barrage of arrows. 

Laussa allowed her swords to vanish, grappling with the rock face as she struggled to catch herself. A gloved hand reached down, a familiar set of golden eyes meeting hers. She grasped onto him and allowed the Gatekeeper to pull her to safety. 

“Princess.”

“Heimdall.”

They both turned, weapons drawn, facing the ambushed Draugr. A group of Asgardians attacked from above, others from behind - evidently they had been closely tracking the marauding group. Laussa blasted many of the undead back with fire, kicking and punching mercilessly. The battle was short but sweet - they were nothing more than scorched bone and ashes by the time the Asgardians had dealt with them.

Heimdall sheathed Hofund, reaching out for Laussa. “Your brothers will return,” he assured her.

“Have you spoken to them?” she asked, still catching her breath. Her stomach wound had hindered her more than she had realised it would. Was it because it had been the product of Hela’s spikes? Was the weapon she used cursed or tainted? She shoved those thoughts aside, focusing on Heimdall instead. “Are they safe?”

“They are… safe enough. They are on Sakaar.”

“Sakaar?”

“It is an artificial trash planet ruled over by En Dwi Gast, the Grandmaster. Loki has earned his favour, but Thor was forced to fight in his Contest of Champions.”

“As much as I’m interested to know about my brothers…” Laussa winced, rubbing at her stomach, “I think I’m about to pass out.”

“Princess-!”

She collapsed in Heimdall’s arms, slumping into blissful unconsciousness.

When she stirred, she was in the ruins of an old temple, monitored by an elderly woman she recognised as being one of Lady Eir’s healers. Laussa glanced down and saw the bandages that were wrapped around her middle, letting out a groan of discomfort.

“Rest, Princess. We have done our best to remove the toxins, your blood is also fighting hard against Hela’s taint, but you must rest.” 

“Can’t rest… need to fight…” Laussa sat up, ignoring the warnings of the healer. She pulled on her tunic and started searching for something more durable to wear. “Do you have any armour? I can’t go to my chambers and retrieve my own, you see.”

“Here.”

She turned at the sound of Heimdall’s voice, smiling gratefully when she saw the pile of armour he was holding in his strong arms. He set it down on the ground before saying, “You always were stubborn, Princess. You should be resting.”

“I’ll rest once Hela is gone.” She started dressing herself for a fight, pulling on her bracers and her protective chestplate, finishing off the look with the black cape she particularly favoured, along with the golden circlet which had tiny horns protruding from it. She pulled on her sturdy boots and straightened up, beaming at Heimdall, who looked vaguely amused but also concerned. “Don’t worry, Heimdall. I’ll protect you.”

“I’m sure you will, Princess. I’m sure you will.”


	3. Ashes To Ashes, Dust To Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hela's forces close in...

Hela was coming.

The very core of Asgard itself seemed to thrum. Each and every rebellious Asgardian was preparing themselves to fight or die. They had one option: get to the Bifrost and get to somewhere safe. Vanaheim maybe? Alfheim? Jotunheim would be preferable to the situation they were in now. 

Heimdall led the Asgardians down the mountain side, taking a secret path only visible to his golden eyes. He was concerned about the Princess - she was in immense pain, the wound meant to be fatal. Alas, her Fire Demon ailment meant she was hardier than most Asgardians, but it also meant she was suffering the full effects of Hela’s poison. Already, Laussa’s veins were turning black. She looked pale, sickly, dark bags under her eyes. This must have been Hela’s intention. She must have known Laussa would betray her.

Heimdall knew Laussa was clever. She had a tongue to match her Trickster brother’s silvertongue. He knew she was full of self-confidence and believed herself to be the wielder of secrets, but she was naive in this situation: she could not unsly the slyest being in the Nine Realms. Hela was cunning, sadistic, ruthless, and hundreds of years older than Laussa. She knew lies, she knew betrayal, she knew how to manipulate people. Laussa hadn’t a hope in Hel against her.

They were partway down the mountain when a few of the children started pointing towards the heavens. Heimdall squinted, seeing with his own two eyes the ship that emerged from seemingly nowhere, weapons already blasting at the Draugr swarming Asgard’s streets. 

“Hurry!” Heimdall shouted. “We must get to the Bifrost!”

They all started to run, Heimdall lifting the ailing Princess up into his arms despite her weak protests. She was slick with sweat, her heart rate becoming more and more erratic. He wondered if she would survive this venture. He sincerely hoped so. 

_ Boom. Boom. Boom. _

“Gungnir…” Laussa croaked. “Thor…” 

“Keep moving!” Heimdall called out, not allowing himself to let his hope consume him. He had to keep his people safe, he couldn’t see into the future. He didn’t know the outcome. He didn’t know that Ragnarök was fast approaching…

Laussa found her feet at the edge of the Bifrost Bridge. She drew her Twins, hands shaking from that small action. She steeled herself. There were Draugr to kill. There was a great big wolf to slaughter. She glared hatefully at the wolf, who was charging over the bridge towards the Asgardians. 

She wanted to be the one who killed that undead mutt once and for all. 

The ship was firing at the dog, but doing very little damage. Primitive technology. Laussa smirked to herself. Such pathetic weapons had nothing against her Twins. 

Letting her adrenaline consume her, she unleashed a savage warcry and began to charge, ignoring Heimdall shouting her name, her entire focus locked onto that bloody wolf. 

Something fell from the ship. 

Both Laussa and Fenrir skidded to a halt. They both stared at the scrawny man, his broken body momentarily uniting them in their joint confusion. 

And then… 

The man erupted into an explosion of green throbbing muscles, bellowing like a berserker. Laussa fell backwards, startled by the sudden outburst. She was too shocked to do anything other than gape at the green beast tackling dear sweet Fenrir off the Rainbow Bridge and into the raging waters below.

“What…” She made to stand up, but pain shot through her. She unleashed a howl of agony, frantically pulling at her armour to expose her stomach. She felt nauseous. 

Her skin was crispy and blackened, red and orange burning spirals sprawling out of the wound area. The rest of her skin was shockingly white and tinted with black veins. The toxic was already in her heart. Each heart beat hurt more and more. She wasn’t going to let Hela win. She wasn’t going to end up damned by her Sister. She was Laussa, Princess of Asgard, the true heir of the throne, Goddess of Fire. Fuck Hela! Fuck her Draugr! And fuck dying!

The undead started swarming them, so Laussa unleashed her pain-fueled rage upon them, decapitating them without any remorse. They were already dead - she was being kind by putting them down. 

She turned, black cape swishing around her, Heimdall’s name spilling from her lips. The fog was closing in, but she could still make him out. He was being swarmed by the undead. He was going to-

A blast of energy killed the Draugr who had been moments away from removing Heimdall’s head from his shoulders.

“Hey man, I’m Korg. This is Miek.”

A strange rock man stepped forward, some weird wiggling creature beside him. Laussa shook her head, trying to dispel the image. She was hallucinating, wasn’t she? The toxic substance had reached her brain. She was being delusional. It wasn’t-

A large ship appeared right next to the Rainbow Bridge, its sheer presence enough to start dispersing the fog. A figure stood, arms spread wide, golden horned helmet perched upon a head of dark hair. 

“Oh no.”

“YOUR SAVIOUR IS HERE!”

“Oh, Norns no…” Laussa grimaced in distaste. Did he have no shame?

Her brother stepped down onto the Rainbow Bridge, already acting the hero. He commanded the Asgardians to board the ship, while an assortment of bizarre people started fighting the Draugr. She presumed they were gladiators who had participated in En Dwi Gast’s Contest of Champions.

She fell to one knee, pain wracking her body once again. She dropped her swords, having enough foresight to make them disappear lest some bastard undead kick them over the edge of the bridge. She could hear Heimdall’s voice and turned her head towards him, reaching out with a violently shaking hand. Somebody else grabbed her, though. Somebody tall and spindly and cold. 

“Sister…” Loki whispered, concern tainting his voice. “Heimdall, get her onto the ship!”

“No!” Laussa pushed herself onto her feet, drawing her blades. “I want to kill that bitch myself. She’s been here for weeks! Weeks! Where were you?” she shouted, blood-tinged tears trickling down her gaunt cheeks. “Where were you and Thor when we needed you the most? You don’t get to tell me what to do - I’m not going on that ship until I know she’s dead!”

The sky darkened. Storm clouds formed over the palace. Laussa turned, her angry words dying as she saw lightning strike down, impacting with both Hela and Thor. 

Chaos ensued.


	4. Revenge is a dish best served Flaming Hot

Thor descended in an electric storm of glorious power. Laussa would have marvelled at the spectacle, but a sudden bout of pain crippled her, forcing her to her knees. Neither Loki or Heimdall seemed aware, too focused on fighting back the last remaining vestiges of Hela’s undead army.

An explosion of colour startled Laussa into turning around, her gaze drawn to a Valkyrie. She was definitely dead now. The Valkyrie were long deceased, slain by her Sister. Heimdall hadn’t mentioned a Valkyrie. Laussa would have liked to know about that, she’d prefer that to knowing about Thor becoming a gladiator.

Not wishing to look weak in front of a fabled warrior, Laussa rose to her feet, summoned the Twins, and commenced with slicing and dicing her way through the undead swarm. 

She let her fire consume her, she let the pain she was enduring fuel the flames in her veins, she grit her teeth and snarled like a feral beast, kicking and scratching, stabbing and parrying, screaming into the bony faces of Hela’s warriors. When at last they had been vanquished, Laussa stumbled her way towards Thor. 

He looked different. He was missing an eye. His hair had been shorn off. He looked weird.

Hela was approaching them, weapons drawn. 

Thor, Loki, and the Valkyrie were having a discussion. Laussa didn’t listen. She didn’t care. The time for talking was over. She marched past the three of them, ignoring Thor shouting her name, ignoring the tiny voice in the back of her head that sounded remarkably like her mother, calling her out for being a reckless hot-headed fool. She pushed it down. Her mother was dead. She’d soon be dead herself. Better to die in a blaze of glory killing the Bitch Queen herself.

“Still alive, Sister?” Hela mocked, green eyes blazing with fury. “I’ll soon put an end to that.”

Laussa had never felt so much rage. She wanted to burn Hela. She wanted to let the fire consume her. She wanted to ruin every tainted aspect of Asgard. She spun her blades around, the flames building, her skin shifting into a hardened, cracked, demonic shell. For the first time since she had been an uncontrollable toddler, Laussa allowed the Fire Demon to take over.

_ “YOU WILL SUFFER FOR YOUR CRIMES!” _

Swinging wildly, Laussa connected with Hela’s side, her other sword coming down to pierce her stomach. It did little to no damage. 

New tactic.

She threw her blades aside, not caring when they spiralled over the bridge and into the void beyond. Weapons would not serve her in her final moments. She intended to kill Hela with her bare hands.

She charged at her Sister, unleashing a blast of devastating fire, scorching Hela’s armour. Laussa swung around, wrapping her claws around her Sister’s throat, sinking her nails deep into her bony flesh. She pumped her fire into Hela’s blood, trying to burn her from the inside out.

Hela screamed in outrage. Laussa was tossed aside, but she used that to her advantage, pummeling her fist into Hela’s stomach. 

“I will kill you, you harpy witch!” Laussa shrieked, sharpened teeth glistening in the burning embers surrounding them before they pierced Hela’s flesh. Hela struck her, dazing her momentarily, but Laussa quickly regained herself, taking one of her daggers out and sinking it into Hela’s breast.

Hela screamed, more pain than outrage this time. Gripping the hilt of the dagger, she tossed it aside, summoning spikes from the ground, intent on piercing Laussa’s flesh once again with those vile weapons. 

Her Sister was knocked back by the sword of the Valkyrie, who had decided to join the fight. Glancing around, Laussa noticed that Loki had gone, but Thor was charging towards them, lightning crackling around his body.

As he unleashed pure electricity, Laussa swirled her fire around the lightning, the electric flames blasting into their Sister and sending her ricocheting backwards. She didn’t stay down for long. 

Spikes shot towards them. Laussa held her hands out, using the last of her strength to form a large wall of fire. The spikes bounced off the flames, shooting over the edge of the bridge. 

Laussa collapsed. 

Breathing was becoming difficult. The ground was shaking. Sulphur clogged up the once clean air. Brimstone. Like a volcano. Fire. Burning fire. Rage. Hatred.

** _“TREMBLE BEFORE ME ASGARD, FOR I AM YOUR RECKONING!”_ **

Ragnarök was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daddy Surtur arrives at last


	5. Fallen Angel

Surtur.

Big. Fucking. Fire Demon.

Surtur had been reborn. 

Laussa heard Thor screaming her name. She couldn’t react quick enough. The titanic might of the Lord of Muspelheim rained down upon them, shattering the Rainbow Bridge as though it had been made of glass. 

A startled yelp escaped her. But, instead of falling into the void, Laussa found herself being surrounded by fire, formed into the shape of a mystical hand. She was pulled upwards, exhausting threatening to claim her, but she fought against it, desperate to meet her end whilst fully awake. 

Surtur’s scorching gaze penetrated her. 

** _“Daughter of the Fire.”_ **

_ Uh oh. _

** _“Blood of my Blood.”_ **

She felt strange. Tingly. Renewed.

** _“You are… REBORN.”_ **

Laussa was tossed through the air. She fell. She landed. She felt nothing.

Ragnarök was being fulfilled. Surtur bellowed in rage. Hela, from seemingly nowhere, summoned her fiendish spikes and started assaulting the Lord of Fire. The Goddess of Fire against the burning might of Muspelheim.

_ “Laussa…”  _

Her vision was fading.

_ “Laussa… my child…” _

Warmth surrounded her. Golden warmth. Arms embraced her, lifted her up. The familiar scent of her mother’s perfume.

_ Mother… _

She was going to die in the ruins of her home. She was going to die weak and defenceless. She was never going to see her parents again. She would never be allowed into Valhalla.

_ “I have you, darling. You’re safe now. Don’t fight it, don’t fight me. All will be well.” _

“Mother…” Laussa whispered. Tears blurred her vision. Was she imagining the golden image above her, the one smiling such a familiar smile? Was she imagining her mother standing over her in her final moments? Holding her closely, like when she had been a frail child burning from the inside out. 

_ “All will be well. The sun will shine on us again.” _

“Mummy… don’t leave me…”

_ “I will never leave you, Laussa. I am always with you. In here.”  _

A warm hand rested above her heart. 

_ “I love you, daughter. Forever and always.” _

“I love you too, Mummy…” 

In the final moments of consciousness, a pale face appeared in her field of vision. She was lifted up into cold arms and carried away as the realm began to crumble around them. 

And then, she knew no more.

Of course, she eventually woke up. Of course she did, she was far too stubborn to die. 

Laussa awoke in an unfamiliar room aboard a spaceship. On the bed with her was the slumbering form of Thor, an eyepatch over his missing eye. Slumped over in a seat that had been pulled up to the bed was Loki, drooling in his sleep. Laussa smirked. Idiots.

She felt better than ever. Refreshed. Renewed. Reborn…

Lifting her shirt up, she saw that the wound Hela had inflicted upon her was nowhere to be seen. Huh. Well how about that? 

Thor snorted in his sleep. Laussa nearly burst out laughing. She didn’t, though. Instead, she silently crept out of bed and wandered over to the observation window, gazing out into the black darkness of space. 

“You’re awake.”

“Looks like it.” She glanced over her shoulder at Loki, who was wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth. “Thanks for… saving me. I guess.”

“I’m glad you feel so grateful,” Loki snarked back, lips curling in fond amusement. He stood up and joined her by the window, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Although we need to discuss what happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“You died.”

Laussa scoffed. “No I didn’t. I’m here. All healthy. Fit as a fiddle.”

“Laussa.”

She glanced up at him, surprised to see the worry clearly being shown on his pale, pointy face.

“You saw Mother.”

It wasn’t a question. 

She swallowed down the lump rising in her throat. “Yeah,” she said, voice cracking. “I saw her. Did you… did you see her?”

“No. I heard you speaking to her.” He rested his chin on her head, sighing heavily. “Asgard is gone.”

“So I gathered.” She hesitated. “Is Hela…?”

“I truly do not know. Can the Goddess of Death be killed?”

“I don’t know-”

“It was rhetorical.”

“Oh.” She stared out at the twinkling stars. “Why did Surtur bring me back?”

“You are his Flesh and Blood. No doubt he has implanted some nefarious seed within you, ready to unleash Ragnarök upon whatever realm our brother decides we should settle on.”

“Knowing him, it’s going to be his precious Midgard,” Laussa scoffed, trying to ignore the thought of being the harbinger of Ragnarök 2.0. 

“Undoubtedly.”

They remained in silence for a while, or at least, they did. Over on the bed, Thor was snoring to his heart’s content. They decided to leave him to rest in peace, heading to the bar aboard the ship (the Statesman, according to Loki). It was there that they found the Valkyrie, who was nursing a blue drink whilst some of those strange gladiators gossiped about their recent fight. 

“Is she a real Valkyrie?” Laussa whispered.

“Yes.”

“I thought they were all dead?” Laussa tried not to be too obvious in the way she was gawping at the Valkyrie. She looked powerful. She looked beautiful. She looked like someone Laussa would be honoured to have beat her up. 

“Not this one.” Loki sauntered up to the bar and reached over, grabbing a bottle of clear liquid and pouring two glasses. He handed Laussa one. “Cheers!”

“Cheers!” 

They clinked glasses and downed the liquid in one big gulp.

Laussa coughed and spluttered, Loki just grimaced unpleasantly.

“Yeuch!” Laussa jumped over the bar and started searching for something more palatable to drink. 

“You fought well,” came the gruff voice of the Valkyrie, “You’d have made a fine Valkyrie.”

“Thank you.” Laussa smiled to herself, before scowling when she saw Loki smirking at her. “So would Loki.”

“He’s a boy.”

“Not always.” 

Loki sighed before closing his eyes. Moments later, his form had shifted. The Valkyrie stared at Loki in astonishment.

“You’re a shapeshifter?”

“Yes.” Loki smiled rather nervously, her thick lashes fluttering as she batted them at the Valkyrie. “I can do many extraordinary things. We’re not all one-trick ponies like my brother.”

“Should I leave you two alone?” Laussa asked, snickering at the venomous look the Valkyrie shot her. “Not a fan of my sibling?”

“We won’t be best friends any time soon,” the Valkyrie assured her. Loki smiled widely, proud of herself, before shifting back into their preferred masculine form.

“We had harsh words on Sakaar,” he declared.

“You mean, you put your foot in it and she beat the shit out of you?” Laussa drawled, raising an eyebrow, not at all surprised when Loki nodded proudly. 

It felt good to laugh again. It felt good to forget about the pain and anguish of the past few months, the past few years. Laussa felt a little bit more like herself again. 

Shame it all had to come to an end. 


	6. Resurrection

Thanos. 

The Mad Titan.

She had heard vague rumours about him. He’d been a scavenger years ago, or a pirate, she hadn’t had it in herself to care at the time. Truthfully, she still didn’t care. None of that mattered, not when her people lay dead at her feet.

The Black Order. Comprising of powerful, deadly, ruthless bastards. All self-declared Children of Thanos. All blinded by their loyalty to that great big ugly purple pile of Bilgesnipe shit. 

He had Thor on his knees. 

He had Loki bargaining like a fool.

Her brothers were going to die. She couldn’t let that happen. 

“You really are the worst brother.”

“I assure you brother… the sun will shine on us again.”

Those words. 

Laussa froze.

No.

_ No. _

_ NO! _

With a savage warcry, Laussa let the fire consume her. She used her fists to batter her way towards Thanos, not thinking about the Stone he wielded. She was reckless and hot-headed and downright stupid at times. Which was why she deserved to be blasted backwards.

Except, something weird happened.

A twisted, harsh, guttural voice filled her mind, whispering to her, filling her thoughts with visions of fire and brimstone and the burning corpse of the Mad Titan. Molten lava spewed around her. A sword formed in her hands, one which was smaller than its predecessor, but one which still remembered the taste of destruction. 

The Twilight Blade came alive in her grasp. 

Thanos had her brother by the throat, strangling the life out of him. 

** _“BURN IN THE FIRES OF MUSPELHEIM!”_ **

The blade came down in one fell swoop. A purple arm fell to the ground, the Gauntlet falling free. Laussa dived down, wrenching the purple and blue gems out of the Gauntlet. She smashed them together and smeared the essences over the Twilight Blade, howling as pain, searing burning agonising pain scorched her insides and her outsides. 

“LAUSSA!”

Flames surrounded the bodies of the dead. With all the strength and power she possessed, she let the fires rekindle the spark of life. 

And then she swung the sword around, decapitating the Mad Titan. 

His Children screamed.

Spears pierced her. She barely felt them. The sword fell from her grasp. She rose up, one final time. 

“You are… Reborn.”

The ship exploded.

* * *

Nine months had come and gone since the abrupt decapitation of the Mad Titan. The universe was safe. Or, as safe as it could be.

The Asgardians were flourishing in New Asgard, formerly known as Tønsberg. Nobody truly knew what happened that day on the Statesman. Nobody dared question it. All they knew was that something bad had happened, and something good had happened. They had been saved. And, with the power of the Space Stone, transported across the galaxy and on the cliffside where Odin had drawn his final breath.

Loki had been brought to trial. He had been acquitted of all charges on the grounds of being mind-controlled by Thanos. He was, however, banned from entering the United States of America. He was to be confined to New Asgard, which suited him well enough.

Thor settled into the role of King, which became easier once Valkyrie had arrived with the other half of the Asgardians. They worked well together, they built a reppart which helped bring New Asgard into a prominent role on Midgard.

Loki was lingering in the garden one sunny morning, breathing in the fresh Norwegian air. He heard uneven footsteps approaching but didn’t turn around, he just waited for them to greet him.

“Hey!” a cheerful, chirpy voice called out. “Lo-Lo!”

A small toddler climbed up onto the wall next to him, golden curls gleaming in the sunlight. Her eyes were burning orange, her incisors sharper than normal, but elsewise, she appeared the picture perfect image of an Asgardian child.

“Hello, Sister.” He reached down and ruffled her hair affectionately. “Have you been causing mischief again?”

“Nuh-uh.” She poked her tongue out at him, giggling when he rolled his eyes. “I wanna get ice-cream. Please?”

“Since you asked nicely…”

There was a cafe close by that served the most wonderful chocolate ice cream Loki had ever sampled. His sister skipped alongside him, cheerful and carefree, waving at every person they walked past. Loki had to selfishly admit he was thankful for his sister’s presence, for it helped alleviate the image of a villain the Midgardians were still fond of foisting upon him. 

“What flavour do you want?” he asked her once they stepped inside the cafe and greeted Alvi, the main proprietor of the establishment.

“Mmm… strawberry!” 

“One strawberry and one chocolate ice cream, Alvi dear.” Loki flashed the elderly woman his most charming smile. “And one hot chocolate and one glass of milk, please.”

His sister ran off to find a table, leaving Loki with Alvi. Her smile fell, sadness in her eyes. “Why doesn’t she remember me?”

“I don’t know,” Loki answered truthfully. “She remembers some things, but not others. Her mind is too underdeveloped for all her memories.” He closed his eyes, showing Alvi a brief moment of weakness. “If she remembers, it would burn her mind.”

Alvi nodded, brushing the tears from her eyes. “These are on the house.” She slid the bowls of ice cream towards him. “I’ll bring your drinks over.”

“Thank you, Alvi. For everything.” 

“It was my pleasure, Loki. I wouldn’t change my time with her for the world.” She placed a hand over his, and Loki allowed it, knowing the old woman needed some comfort. “I always thought of her as a surrogate daughter.”

“She always thought of you as a surrogate mother. She adored you, Alvi. Never forget that.”

“I’ll try not to.” She smiled softly. “Go, you better give the Princess her ice cream before she creates a fuss.”

Loki smiled, making his way over to the table where his sister was impatiently waiting. As soon as he set the bowl down in front of her, all was forgiven. She slurped on the strawberry dessert, beaming at him with such childlike glee it made him think of his younger years, when he had been a scrawny teenager and she had been a petulant child. How times have changed.

“Thank you, Lo-Lo!” 

“For what?” he asked her with a faint smile. 

“For being the bestest brother ever! Don’t tell Thor I said that, else I’ll beat your butt!” 

He laughed. “Understood.”

Oh, it was good to be alive. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Better plot holes than Endgame
> 
> Alvi was Laussa's nanny when she was growing up, in case there was any confusion.


End file.
